WHEN I have borne in memory what has tamed
Great Nations, how ennobling thoughts depart
When men change swords for ledgers, and desert
The student's bower for gold, some fears unnamed
I had, my Country!--am I to be blamed?
Now, when I think of thee, and what thou art,
Verily, in the bottom of my heart,
Of those unfilial fears I am ashamed.
For dearly must we prize thee; we who find
In thee a bulwark for the cause of men:
And I by my affection was beguiled:
What wonder if a Poet now and then,
Among the many movements of his mind,
Felt for thee as a lover or a child!
More verses by William Wordsworth
- The French Army In Russia, 1812-13
- To M.H.
- Thought Of A Briton On The Subjugation Of Switzerland
- Those Words Were Uttered As In Pensive Mood
- Upon Perusing The Forgoing Epistle Thirty Years After Its Composition